This is War (Checkmate Duet 1)

“Your pussy is so wet.” He leans over me, with my ankle aligning my face, and wraps a hand around my throat. “I could fuck it for hours.”

I tilt my neck, letting his fingers dig into the flesh. He knows I’m close and tightens his grip as soon as he feels me shuddering underneath him.

Oh. My. God.

Ohmygod. Ohmygod.

Holy shit.

There are no words, only gasps of air, because the harder I come, the harder he presses his fingers around my throat. Lack of oxygen fuels my orgasm even more, and I feel my entire body shaking.

I hear him let out a loud, deep, animalistic roar as his body tightens above me, trying to control himself. His hand releases from my throat and before I have a second to come down, he shifts off me and grabs my hips.

“Your pussy nearly squeezed my dick off,” he roars, sweat glistening off his neck and shoulders. “Now turn around and stick that ass out for me. And count.”

I’m still trying to catch my breath. “You aren’t the boss of me, Travis.”

The corner of his lip curls up in amusement before flipping me over on all fours and adjusting himself in between my legs again. He leans over and whispers in my ear, “Maybe not, but I own that pussy and we both know it.” He slides his hand up my spine, pushing my chest flat against the bed and adjusting my legs so my back is arched up to him.

“Six,” I whisper.

God, I wanted to hate him. I do hate him, but right now, he’s managed to manipulate every brain cell into obeying him, even after fighting to stay strong around him. But I won’t surrender my heart to him, because I’m not giving in. Letting Travis King win would only feed his ego, and I’m not sure it even has room to grow anymore.

He positions himself against me once again and this time he’s not nice and gentle. He slides inside, deep and hard, going for exactly what he wants. I gasp and clench the sheets in my palms. He thrusts out and back in again, harder than the first time.

“Fuck…” I exhale. He’s deep and greedy, using my body for exactly whatever he wants. His fingers dig into my hips, driving faster and faster inside me.

“You let all your other conquests fuck you like this?” he asks, muffled by his heavy breathing.

“Screw you,” I spit out, widening my thighs.

I feel a hand slap across my ass cheek, hard. It instantly burns, but I don’t have time to react before he slaps it again. “Tsk, tsk, princess. You keep talking to me like that, I’ll make sure you don’t sit for a week,” he threatens, his tone low. I don’t doubt for a minute that Travis King could ruin my pussy, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “Every step you take, you’ll be reminded I was inside you. Is that what you want? You want the memory of my cock fucking you like a fifty-dollar hooker?”

His words sting, but I can’t stop wanting to hear them. “I’d charge you double just for your brazen attitude.”

“Would that include extras?” he asks, fisting his fingers around the thickness of my hair and pulling my head back. His other hand wraps around my waist, holding me up. “I’d pay triple just to see you touch yourself, maybe more with a plug in that perky little ass of yours.” His words vibrate against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. His hand slides down my stomach until it reaches my clit. He adds pressure by rubbing small circles over it and slowly thrusting in and out, almost to the point of being torture.

“You couldn’t handle extras,” I say, self-assured. “I’m fairly flexible…” I drawl, hearing his breath hitch.

“You dirty, little cunt.” I feel him smirking against my neck. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, princess.” I feel him speed up and before I can respond, he pushes me back down and thrusts deeper and faster, hitting just the right spot to make me scream out. “Seven!”

I feel him release right after me, roaring and grunting as his nails scratch down my back.

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses, moving his hands to my hips and gripping them once again. “I knew you’d be a goddamn screamer,” he praises. “Took a little effort, but like I said, I have a one-hundred-percent satisfaction guarantee.” He slaps my ass cheek once again, almost as if to say ‘good game’.

“You’re such an asshole,” I mutter as he slides out. My body is limp and feels numb from the waist down, but I’m not letting his body and charm win my emotions over. “Perhaps you were taking so damn long, I had to fake it.”

I roll over to my back, giving my body time to recover. He stands on the side of the bed, watching me as he removes the condom and tosses it. His hair is slick with sweat, his cheeks flushed. His body is taut and the veins popping out of his arms are distracting. I admire his tattoos but stay focused as I remind myself how I ended up in his bed in the first place.